


Never Easy

by rispacooper



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Comment Fic, Developing Relationship, Intoxication, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-28
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:51:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim sometimes wonders why they do this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Easy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dlasta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dlasta).



> I'm not sure how in character it is for Jim to be drinking, he does on the show I think, but I vaguely recall him being in Recovery or talking about it or something. IDK. Vague spoilers for Seasons 7 and 8.

He should feel old. He _does_ feel old, ridiculous and tired, slightly drunk from a few swallows of scotch in the middle of the day. He's hot and the hat that he'd allowed to be placed on his head slides down into his eyes when he moves head back to try to speak.

He doesn't know what he'd say. There are things that he always thinks about saying when they're like this, that he's too old for this, that he has a daughter almost Greg's age for Christ’s sake, that this isn't who he is. There's a weight on Jim's shoulders that's been there so long he's mostly forgotten about the burden, until he breathes and feels his suit pull tight and the press of his badge in his coat pocket.

He's spent a long time not being this, not wanting this, that someone like Greg, Greg goddamn Sanders, shouldn't want him.

He doesn't speak of that either, whatever Sanders--Greg--is getting out of this aside from a convenient place to get laid. It's too close to asking other questions and Jim hasn't gotten where he is by not knowing which rocks to overturn and which rocks to leave be.

But Sanders is smart like all CSIs, and pretty and young, and Sanders is, or was, playful, before his night in that alley, and the lawsuit. He was crazy and annoying, once upon a time, and now that there might be a burden on his shoulders too, Jim is surprised at how much he wants Greg to that hopeful, annoying lab rat again. As annoying as it had been to find Greg drinking alone in that bar all those months ago, almost as annoying as it had been to have Sanders drunk and friendly and close enough for Jim to see the shadows under his eyes.

Jim's known dark times, but the urge to save Sanders from his mistakes, from the bottle and a lost family, was only part of why he'd allowed Greg to slowly sway closer. He was aware enough to admit that, to himself if not out loud. Out loud he says little because he doesn't have to.

He'd shown up at Greg's door knowing Greg had the day off--and the night--off so he'd be awake. He'd knocked on the door expecting sex and had only been mildly surprised at the call to come inside and then finding no sign of Greg in the hallway.

The blackout shades left the living room dark except for the light from TV, and that was shadowed, the black and white of an old noir mystery not revealing much besides the couch and the fedora and bottle of scotch on the coffee table.

The fedora is now on Jim's head, the scotch is on his lips, and Greg is sliding over his lap, looking pleased with himself, with Jim for understanding the clues he'd left out.

Jim had worked with CSI for years. He knows how to follow evidence. But maybe Greg hadn't really expected him to.

It _is_ surprising, that he would care this much, that seeing Sanders light up would make him offer a small grin before he schools his face back into the deadpan expression that he’s known for. It has no obvious effect on Sanders, who leans in to lick the taste of scotch from Jim’s mouth as he pulls his own t-shirt up, though he stops when Jim's hands trail over his warm, exposed skin, mostly to let out a noisy sigh and allow Jim to take over.

"Think it's that easy, copper?" For a brief second, Greg affects the smart ass tone of a dame from one of his old movies. Jim should be annoyed. Instead he’s flushing as his dick decides he isn't too old after all. He makes a noise, a grunt, not quite a laugh but Greg might not know the difference.

Greg's shirt hits the floor and he looks ready to shed his sweatpants at Jim's command. From the way he drops back in to swipe his tongue at the corner of Jim's mouth, Jim can guess what Greg wants him to do next. Jim thinks he might, because Sanders sucks cock like he needs to to live, and because it makes him smile to have Jim’s come in his mouth and Jim satisfied above him, because Jim doesn't feel old when Sanders smiles. His smiles are too rare these days and for Jim to earn one makes him feel twenty-one and stupid.

He’s too old to feel stupid. But he slides his hand up into Greg's hair to pull him back for a real kiss, his tongue pushing into Greg's eager, open mouth, and only then does he pull Greg's hand down to his belt to let Greg deal with the buckle.

"It's never easy with you, kid," Jim lies against Greg's cherry lips in the gruff movie-detective voice that Greg wants from him today, and feels those red lips curve into a wider smile.

Jim feels young.


End file.
